


Whatever it takes

by TuppingLiberty



Series: Tupping Liberty's prompt ficlet series [8]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Angst with a Happy Ending, Binge Drinking, Force-Sensitive Finn, M/M, Major Character Injury, Poe Dameron Needs A Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, canonverse, more angst than happy though, post-TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 19:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7769995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TuppingLiberty/pseuds/TuppingLiberty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is done and Finn has helped Leia clean up and rebuild the Reformed Republic. But he's not sure why Poe is absent from all of the proceedings, so he goes to Yavin IV to seek him out.</p><p>It's in the tags, but CW for alcohol abuse, alcoholism, withdrawal, suicidal thoughts/words, and binge drinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beautifullights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifullights/gifts), [gaypoedameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaypoedameron/gifts).



> I've had some angsty prompts burning a hole in my inbox:  
> Stardusteddameron asked for "You really need to go."  
> beebourine asked for 'how you say I love you- Broken, as you clutch the sleeve of my jacket and beg me not to leave'  
> and  
> beautifullights asked for "I can't take it anymore."
> 
> I ignored them all for awhile because I didn't want to write angst, but then I woke up this morning with an idea, and decided to roll all of these into one.
> 
> Also I'm putting this as its own separate fic instead of in my "I don't know how to say no to this" series because it got quite long! No plans at this time to write more of this but maybe. Never say never.

The aftermath of the battle with Snoke took some time for Finn, as a general of the Resistance, to deal with. It’s amazing, really, the amount of paperwork a little rebellion can generate. As Leia’s right-hand man, he couldn’t be pulled away from the work that was crucial if they wanted to truly defeat the First Order and eradicate them from all the corners of the galaxy.

Finn noted Poe’s absence in his mind, of course. Poe was one of his oldest friends, always joking he had Rey beat by a matter of hours. Leia had told him Poe sustained a non-life-threatening injury in the final battle, but that he was fine, she’d reassured before he could rush off to be at his side. He was recuperating on Yavin IV, Kes was helping, and he was _fine._ A short missive from Poe reassuring him of such was what finally stopped Finn from getting into the first transport to Yavin IV and instead concentrating again on putting the pieces of the galaxy back together in such a way that would hopefully - _hopefully -_ never allow something like the First Order to rise again.

He took to the work the way most generals in peacetime do: with a lot of grumbling but with the need in his heart to make sure they didn’t fuck this up. His greatest achievement was the stormtrooper repatriation program. But when the Reformed Republic had a solid footing in a constitution, Finn had to beg off, unable to explain his edginess to Leia except to say, “I need to go to Yavin IV.”

His connection with Poe, the one he’d always felt through the Force, was getting weaker and weaker, which Leia told him could happen when one was separated from that person for a long time. As it grew weaker, Finn grew increasingly uneasy until no soft words from Leia could hold him back. He packed a small bag and paid for a public transport ticket (it took about 20 seconds for everyone on the ship to realize that they had _General Finn_ in their midst, and even the pilot came back to introduce himself), and found himself on Yavin IV a day later.

He loved the lushness of Yavin IV, and the lovely contrast it made against the likes of Jakku or Starkiller. Finn had been to dozens of planets since leaving the First Order, but none of them made him feel as comfortable as Yavin IV. Then again, no one made him feel as comfortable as the man who’d introduced him to this planet, either. Eager and thinking of Poe, he knocked excitedly at the Damerons’ door.

Kes opened it, a stormy expression on his face that didn’t change when he saw Finn. He nodded politely, but his “What are you doing here?” was a little rougher than Finn had been expecting.

Finn swallowed nervously. “I came to see Poe. Is he in?”

“It’s been months since the last battle. What took you so long?” Kes’ voice was bitter, and Finn wanted to take a step back at the anger he heard there.

“We’ve been building the constitution,” he said instead, by way of explanation.

Kes growled and spat into the grass by the front door. “And while you do that, Poe just gets to rot, huh?”

Finn frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I- I’m not sure what you’re getting at. Where’s Poe? Is he alright? I just wanted to-”

“Is he _alright_? Is this what the Resistance does? Use their soldiers until they break and then discard them like some piece of trash while you bask in the glory of victory?” Finn opened his mouth to protest, to ask, to demand some type of explanation, but Kes stampeded over him. “He deserved a place at that fancy ceremony we saw over holovid. Maybe he’s not so pretty anymore, but he deserved a place there, dammit.” Kes’ hand was gripping the doorjamb, knuckles white.

Finn felt his old anxieties rising up in him, and forced himself to take a calming breath, then prepared once more to ask what the kriff was going on.

Behind Kes, there was a loud crash of something breaking, followed by a slurred yell of “Fuck!”

Kes’ face got stormier as he whipped around, and Finn took advantage of his distraction to follow him inside the Dameron house.

He followed Kes to their kitchen, where he could see Poe sprawled out, face down, on the floor, a broken glass with some type of amber liquid - an alcohol, from the smell of it - around him.

“For fuck’s sake, son. Every glass?” Kes said in exasperation, not helping Poe up but cleaning the glass up from around him with a tired resignation, as if this was something he did on a daily basis. Finn found himself frozen, speechless.

“Sorry, Dad,” came Poe’s slurred voice. What was it, not even nine in the morning local time? And Poe was _drunk?_

“Poe, what-”

Kes’ head snapped up at the sound of Finn’s voice, as if he’d forgotten Finn was there. “You need to leave,” he said, voice hard, but eyes pleading with Finn’s to understand. He leaned down to help Poe off the ground, slinging one of Poe’s arms over his shoulders.

“‘Zat Finn? Fucking Finn? Turn me ‘round.”

“I don’t think that’s a good id-”

“Fucking turn me ‘round, Dad,” Poe grumbled, then stumbled when he did it himself. Finn held in a gasp. The area where Poe’s right eye was - had been - was a mass of red, angry scarring. “Yeah, not so pretty now, am I? Fucking go, Finn. Fuck off. You _reallllllly_ need to go.” With that, he turned again, falling into the wall, then using it to pull himself out of the kitchen and back to where Finn knew the bedrooms were, Kes following along.

In shock, Finn did go. He went as far as the Dameron’s front steps before he collapsed on them.

“Why am I not surprised you didn’t listen to my son?” came Kes’ cold voice many minutes later. Finn didn’t respond, and Kes sighed, sitting down on the steps beside him.

“I didn’t know- I would have come earlier. I swear, Kes, I would have been here immediately. He told me to stay. He sent me a message, telling me to get the important work done, that he was fine. Kes, _I would have come._ ” Guilt was overwhelming him, and anguish at seeing his best friend, this once great man, reduced to a broken mess on a kitchen floor.

Kes frowned. “I didn’t know that. I mean, Poe held it together pretty well in the beginning, and he told Leia, so I’d assumed-”

“ _Leia_ knew?” The betrayal in Finn’s voice was evident. He stood, unable to contain his anger, pacing the walkway in front of the house. Finally, all composure lost: “Leia _knew?!_ ” His fingers were itching to do something - punch someone more like - and he balled them into tight fists, the nails cutting into his palms.

“And you didn’t, obviously.” Kes gave him a considering look. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Have I- what?” Finn replied, confused by Kes’ sudden change of tone. “No.”

“Come on in, I’ll make you a late breakfast.”

“I thought you wanted me to leave.”

“That was before I knew my boneheaded son didn’t tell you. I thought you rejected him after his injury. Cut me a little slack for going all papa rancor on you.”

Finn gripped Kes’ arm, stopping him. “Poe wants me to leave.”

Kes nodded. “That’s certainly true.”

“I’m not going to leave.”

Kes smiled. “Well then, let’s get you some breakfast.”

\-------------------------------------

It was one of those “Poe’s lucky he’s not dead” injuries, Kes explained. “The stars’ own luck, that boy.” Stripped of his ability to fly, Poe hadn’t exactly seen it that way. “I’ve been trying my best to help him, but… it’s so hard for a parent to want to do anything but comfort.” Kes looked into his cup of caf, frowning.

“I’m sure you’ve been doing the best you can, Kes,” Finn murmured.

“Damn kid always loved the sky more than anything else in this world. Got it from his mom.”

Finn had heard Poe talk about Shara before, so he nodded politely. That Poe was a pilot was obvious, but for Finn, it had always been one thing on a list of many that defined Poe in his mind. Apparently not in Poe’s mind, though.

“Can I go back to his room?” The house had long since quieted, and Finn figured Poe had passed out.

Kes winced. “He doesn’t let me back there to clean,” he warned.

Finn shook his head, cleanliness inconsequential. He took a final sip of his caf, then stood, bracing himself.

The room was, as advertised, a disaster. Brew bottles everywhere, most empty, some broken. Piles of clothes, plates of old food. The smell was rank. Poe was passed out on a pile of dirty blankets he presumed was the bed. Gingerly, he stepped through the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and turning Poe on his side, in case he threw up.

Even in sleep, Poe’s brows were furrowed, and Finn ran a soft thumb over the creases between Poe’s eyes - or what would have been Poe's eyes - until they smoothed out, Poe snuffling in his sleep. His beard was unruly and overgrown, his curly hair longer than Finn had ever seen it, tangled in knots. Finn combed through it with his fingers, trying to get out the tangles as best he could, but really using it as an excuse to touch Poe.

“It was always you for me, Poe. You’re it,” he whispered as he combed. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. I always figured that I could hold off until we had the galaxy squared away. I didn’t know you were hurting. I should have known you were hurting.” He felt a tear slide down his cheek as he ran his hand down Poe’s arm, to find his hand and work his fingers into Poe’s. “I’m so, so sorry, honey.” The endearment, one that Finn had given Poe a long time ago in his head, felt strange coming out of his lips, but the moment it landed in the silence of the room, it felt right.

Finn indulged himself in staying there, holding the sleeping Poe’s hand, for another hour, before he got up to form his plan.

\----------------------

The crashing sound of brew bottles woke him up, and for a second, he figured he’d knocked something over in his sleep, again. He blinked his eye, rubbing at it until things seemed more focused, and that’s when he saw Finn. The man was gathering the brew bottles, whether they were empty or not, and throwing them in a large container, letting them crash into each other and break.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Poe sat up, then pressed his hands to his temples. He needed that brew to take the edge off of this headache.

“Cleaning up. You could help, you know. It is _your_ room.” Another bottle, a full one, crashed into the bin, obviously breaking, and Poe made a noise of anger.

“You can’t just throw away my stuff. That’s my fucking brew, give it back,” and even Poe was disgusted at the petulance in his voice.

“Nope. First we’re cleaning this up, then we’re cleaning you up. You smell rank, Poe. Worse than that time we got stuck on that outer rim planet for two weeks with just the clothes on our backs.” Finn’s voice was bright and cheery as he glibly insulted Poe.

“What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to leave.”

“Your father invited me to stay as long as I pleased.”

“Fuck.”

Finn smirked at him as more bottles crashed into the container. “Indeed. Come on, get up. Kes has soup on the stove, and it’s easier to clean without you here. Unless you want to help.”

Finn pulled him up off the bed with one arm, then pushed him toward the hallway. He was in the kitchen, staring at his dad, before he even knew what was happening. ‘Course, not knowing what was happening was the state Poe preferred to be in these days. Though he liked it better when it was the brew that got him there, not some uppity semi-Jedi war hero.

He grunted at Kes, then collapsed at the table and sunk his head into his hands. He heard Kes place something near him, and dammit, the smell of the soup was too good to resist… He reluctantly sat up and pulled the bowl over, eating a few spoonfuls before grunting his approval to Kes.

“You know, you used to be a lot more mouthy. I think I like this new, silent Poe Dameron,” Finn quipped from the doorway, before turning to Kes and indicating the container of brew bottles. “Recycler?”

“Out back,” Kes replied, jerking a thumb in the right direction.

“Don’t get lost on the way back,” Poe replied sarcastically, but he knew it was a weak jab.

“You can do better,” Finn called on his way out the door. Poe glowered into his soup. Kes smiled.

By the time Poe had finished his soup, Finn had cleared out several more boxes of trash and bottles. When he came back from the recycler a third time, he saw Poe was done with his soup and put his hands on his hips. “Good. Time to clean _you_ up, then.”

Before Poe knew it, he was being led back to the ‘fresher, and Finn was hastily stripping him. “Whoa, what the fuck, man,” Poe said, trying to cover himself up, even though Finn had seen him naked that one time on Naboo.

“I’m burning these. Do you want to be in them when I do so?” Finn asked archly.

Poe shoved him away and finished the job himself. “Fucking go away, Finn,” he grumbled, walking into the shower and letting the water run over him. “I can do this myself. Don’t know why I need to bother, not like I’m leaving this house.”

“You know who’s not leaving this house either? Your father. Or me. So have some respect for our sense of smell, and clean yourself up.” With that, he turned and walked out of the ‘fresher, presumably to make good on his threat to burn Poe’s clothing.

He’d forgotten how Finn gave as good as he got. Maybe he was a sick man, but their repartee had always been one of the things that had made lust curl in Poe’s gut. Well, that, and the fact that Finn was also probably the kindest man he’d ever met, and loyal, and strong, and intelligent, and _gorgeous_ and… now he was completely unreachable for Poe. Former general, delegate to the constitutional convention for the Reformed Republic, on the fast track to be a senator, for sure. Poe let the water pour over him. He had no energy to scrub. Future senator, fucking cleaning up his brew bottles. Fucking pathetic. He shut the water off, toweled off cursorily, and shuffled back to his room to find some clothing. Then, he grabbed the full brew bottles that Finn had missed (because they were hidden in his closet), and tried not to feel guilty as he tip-toed out of the house to find someplace to drink in peace.

\------------

Finn was waiting for him when he stumbled home. Because of course he was. Why, though? Why was he even here?

“Because I’m not letting you go out this way, you nerf herder.”

Poe realized with a start that he’d spoken aloud. He should probably watch that.

“You never watched your mouth before,” Finn grumbled, sounded resigned and disappointed as he came forward to help Poe up the stairs.

Poe laughed, because it was easier than dealing with that disappointment in Finn’s voice that made him want to get cozy with a bottle of brew all over again. “Oh buddy, you don’t even _know_ how much I held back over the years.”

“Yeah, me too,” Finn replied quietly, dumping him onto his bed. His bed that had fresh sheets and clean blankets and was entirely too nice of a place for a drunkard to sleep.

“Like what?” Poe asked because he couldn’t help himself.

Finn sat down, and stroked through Poe’s hair, and it somehow felt _familiar_ and so, so good.

“Please keep doing that,” Poe breathed, forgetting that Finn hadn’t answered his question. He closed his eye, letting himself feel Finn touch him like he’d always wanted to, letting himself indulge for a little bit, while he could, while he was too drunk to know better. He wasn’t worthy of Finn’s touches, but he could forget that for now.

\---------------------------

More banging. Poe groaned as every noise drove a spike into his skull. He pulled the pillow over his head, but when the banging didn’t stop, he turned to see what it was.

Finn was emptying out all of his drawers. It looked like he had already hit Poe’s stash in the closet. “What, are you just going to get rid of all of the booze in the house?” he grumbled.

“If that’s what it takes,” Finn chirped, enthusiasm bright and overbearing and cutting unbidden through Poe’s hangover fog.

“I’m sure Dad will be really happy about that.”

“He thought it was a great idea. Come on, get up and change your clothes. We’re going to go get some exercise.” Finn pulled Poe’s blankets off of him.

“You know, I really don’t remember you being this fucking annoying.”

“Search your feelings. You know it to be true,” Finn responded drily, and Poe snorted in spite of himself.

“That sounds like a holovid line.”

“It is,” Finn said, gifting him with one of those sunshine smiles that was his specialty.

Something around his heart hurt, looking at that smile. He shoved the thought away and concentrated on what actually hurt, and pressed fingers against his temple. “Do I at least get rations before going on this march, general?”

“There’s caf and pancakes in the kitchen,” Finn replied, easily ignoring Poe’s barb.

When Poe had eaten the bare minimum amount of pancakes so that he didn’t feel like he was going to throw up anymore, they headed out to the backyard, past the Force-sensitive tree, and out into the forest. Poe struggled hard against the resentment he was feeling, because all he could think about was how things used to be. He used to be able to tell how far away everything was. He used to be able to see Yavin IV’s forests for all of their beauty. He used to have a face that didn’t make people sick to look at.

Except… except Finn hadn’t once glanced away from him, had he? Even his dad tried not to look him in the eye but Finn… Finn hadn’t flinched, not even the first time he’d seen it.

And Finn was leading him, giving him something solid to follow with his messed up depth perception. But he’d done it without pointing it out, without being obvious. He’d been subtle enough that it had taken Poe awhile to even figure out that’s what he was doing.

Poe tried to let the smell of the forest soothe him when the sight only reminded him of what he’d lost. Pine, and wet leaves, and some flower that was almost sickeningly sweet.

Finn led them into a clearing, to a vista overlooking the valley that held Poe’s village. He sat on a rock, savored a deep breath, and smiled at Poe. “This is the only hike I know here,” he said with a laugh. They’d come here the time Poe had brought him home, a short break in the war allowing for some R&R. When Finn had said he was just going to stick around the base, Poe had dragged him back to Yavin IV. “You’ll have to show me another hike next time.”

Poe sat down on the rock too, keeping Finn on his good side. “How long are you staying?” Finn shrugged carelessly, and the answer enraged Poe for some reason. “You have important things to do. You need to get back.”

“The Reformed Republic is greater than any one person. It has to be, or it’ll fall again. And anyway, if it was one person, it’d be Leia, not me.”

“I’m not going back with you.”

Again, Finn shrugged.

“I’m _not.”_

“Okay.”

“I’d be useless there. Hell, I’d be useless even if I wasn’t disfigured. What need is there for a fighter pilot when everyone’s flying the flags of peace?”

“What need is there for a general?” Finn asked, voice thoughtful.

“General-cum-senator.”

“I’m not trying to make you go back, Poe. I came because… because you’re my friend, and it shouldn’t have taken me this long to realize something was wrong.”

The guilt in Finn’s voice set off a little niggle of guilt around his heart.

“You don’t owe the RR anything. Even if you came back, you’ve done your part, and the people should thank you, not expect more. You’ve earned a right to live in peace, Poe.”

“I don’t know how to do that!” he yelled, balling up his fist and striking it against the rock. Pain shot up his arm and he scowled.

“Better?”

“Not especially.”

Finn’s hand covered the hand that Poe had slammed into the rock. It both stung and comforted as they sat in silence.

“The brew-” Finn started tentatively.

“The brew helps me.”

“I don’t think so.”

Poe dug his fingers into the rock. How was Finn so ceaselessly patient? “I think so,” he replied stubbornly.

“Why?”

Poe pressed his lips together. “Without it, this all feels too raw. Too hard. The brew softens the edges.”

“The brew masks the edges. It doesn’t make them go away.”

“But it’s pretty fucking great while they’re masked.”

“Is that really how you want to live? Drinking yourself to a stupor?”

“Who said I wanted to live?”

Finn’s fingers squeezed into his. “Oh, Poe.” Distress was evident in his voice.

Poe wanted to take it back, just to make Finn feel better. But- but he didn’t want to lie to Finn, either, so he stayed quiet. Better it was out there, anyway.

“Can you try it my way? A little, at least? See what life is like without the brew?”

Poe looked up into Finn’s eyes, noticed again that Finn’s gaze was unflinchingly holding his, and found himself nodding. “Sure.”

\----------------------------------

Poe needed therapy. Finn knew it. The problem was getting Poe to recognize it. To recognize that it was worth working on his mental state, that he didn’t want to die. Poe soft admission during the hike had sliced into Finn like a lightsaber blade. Because it had felt like Poe was confessing that nothing in the world - and Finn was very much a part of Poe’s world - was good enough to make Poe want to stick around. The alternative, letting Poe just waste his life away on booze until he killed his liver, or picked a fight with the wrong person, or drowned in a ditch or something - was as unbearable.

Poe needed therapy, and all he had right now were Kes and Finn, and that was a pretty poor substitute, to be honest.

They got through each day, the two of them working together to keep Poe occupied without trying to drive him crazy. They hiked, and swam, and cleaned the house, and did yard work.

At some point, Finn realized that he was sacrificing his own mental wellbeing to help Poe, but he didn’t want to stop. Finn’s love was so clearly unwanted, and even if it had been wanted, it was a complication that Poe surely didn’t need in his life. Finn got through every day with Poe, only to find himself lying awake in the guest room, unable to stop himself from sinking into despair over Poe.

Nights were the worst for Poe, and in turn, the worst for Finn. Even two weeks later, he was still experiencing withdrawal symptoms every night. This night was particularly bad. He was shivering, shaking even though he was dripping with sweat, and repeating over and over how he wanted to die in a delirium. All Finn could do was try to soothe his thoughts with the Force, and wipe his curls away from his forehead. When Poe fell into an uneasy sleep, still shivering, Finn laid down beside him and wrapped him in his arms, absorbing the shakes into his own body.

\---------------------------

Finn woke early, trying not to be ashamed at the indulgence he’d given himself last night, slipping in behind Poe like that, comforting himself in Poe’s presence against his consent. Or, Finn thought, he hadn’t even asked for Poe’s consent, which felt just about as bad.

Poe was snoring softly, a small puddle of drool caught on the pillow, the shakes gone, for now or for good, Finn had no idea. Finn was able to slip back out of the bed, out of the room easily.

Kes was already up and drinking a cup of caf at the kitchen table, and Finn felt himself flush.

“Morning,” Kes said, drawling it out a little.

“G’morning,” Finn mumbled, then busied himself by preparing a cup for himself. As he sat, he found he couldn’t quite meet Kes’ eyes.

Kes cleared his throat. “Now, I’ve never found I had to do the “what are you intentions” talk for my boy, but since Poe’s brain isn’t exactly working at capacity right now…” Kes eyed Finn over his cup.

Finn ran a finger around the rim of his mug, unable to think of anything to say to that.

“Aw, Finn.” Kes reached across the table and ran a thumb over Finn’s knuckles. “You’re like a son to me, you know that?”

Finn looked up at Kes in surprise.

“Yeah,” Kes verified. “I’m sure. When Poe brought you here awhile back, I thought maybe… I followed your exploits of course, everyone in the galaxy did, and I’m damned proud of what you did for the Reformed Republic, too.”

“Kes, I-”

Kes held up his hand. “I’ve been selfish. Because over the last two weeks, I’ve started to see the Poe I knew before the injury, and I was caught up in that. So I didn’t see how this has been affecting you.”

Rather than pretend anymore, Finn let out a sigh. “It’s worth it if it gets him back on his feet.”

“You think I don’t see those bags under your eyes?”

“I love your son, Kes. I love your son, and the thought of him not existing in this world is too much for me to bear.”

There was a sound by the door, and a devastated-looking Poe pushed past them and was out the back door before either Kes or Finn could grab him.

\----------------------------

Poe ran. Stumbled, got up, ran again. Repeated the process until he was two villages over and found the bar. Ordered without a thought, ignored the bartender’s blatant stare at the right side of his face. When the shots - his fastest way to dull the edges, he’d figured - were placed in front of him, though, he thought of Finn’s words and hesitated. _I love your son._ He grabbed the first shot and knocked it back. _I love your son._ No. No, Finn couldn’t love him. Finn couldn’t love this broken shell of a man. He needed to- he needed to drive Finn away, push him away, let him get on with his life. Let him find someone else to love, because Poe didn’t deserve it. He knocked back the rest of the shots in succession, then ordered a brew and let everything go fuzzy around him.

In time, there was a commotion behind him, and he squinted against the light pouring in from outside. Finn was silhouetted against the door, looking like some avenging angel. He swiftly crossed to Poe and took the bottle from his hand, tossing it into the nearest trash.

“Hey, I was drinkin’ that,” Poe slurred, tracking Finn woozily.

“Get up,” Finn said, his voice tight with anger. _Good, my plan is working_.

“I’m staying.” He banged on the bar. “Give me another.”

The bartender turned to comply, then stopped at Finn’s sharp demand, “No, he’s done.”

“Now listen here, this is my establishment, and if he wants another, well then, you’ll just have to shut up about it.” The bartender crossed his arms - his substantially muscled arms - over his chest in a vague threat, and pulled himself to a height that definitely beat both Finn and Poe.

Finn, like the avenging angel he was, wasn’t intimidated though, and Poe’s poor heart beat even faster. Finn placed his hand subtly on his lightsaber hilt attached to his belt. “I don’t want trouble. We’re going to leave this nice establishment. _And you’re never going to serve this man again._ ”

Something in Finn’s voice changed at the last bit, but before Poe could figure it out, the bartender was saying, “I’m never going to serve this man again.”

“You whammied him,” Poe said with a laugh.

Finn hauled him up by his arm, keeping his other hand on his hilt the whole time he dragged Poe out of the bar. Poe stumbled, blinking at the brightness of outside, and Finn sighed, then hoisted Poe up into a piggy back carry.

Poe tried to ignore the strong back he was plastered to, but it was so hard, it felt so nice, and he groaned against it, forgetting his plan to make Finn hate him.

The piggy back ride was over too soon, as Finn dumped him into the passenger seat of his dad’s transport and drove the rest of the way home. He hauled him inside, where Kes was nowhere to be seen, a fact for which Poe was grateful. When Finn dropped him roughly on his bed, he took in the angry look on Finn’s face and felt both satisfied and heartbroken. “Did it work?”

“Did what work?” Finn’s word were bitten and cold as he pulled off Poe’s shoes and socks.

“Do you hate me now?”

Finn closed his eyes briefly and his mouth moved, as if counting out his breath. “Why would you want me to hate you, Poe?”

“So you can go live the life you deserve. Did it work?”

“No.”

“You can’t love me, Finn.”

“I’m an adult, Poe, and I get to decide who I want to love.” Finn laughed unkindly at himself and collapsed on Poe’s bed. “That’s a fucking joke. I didn’t get to choose you, Poe. You just happened. It was always going to be us, for me. That’s why I came here. If you don’t like me back, that’s fine. That’s chemistry or biology or whatever. But you can’t just get me to hate you.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“I don’t really fucking care if you think you deserve it,” Finn snapped, then sighed, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean that. I care, because you _do_ deserve it and I want you to realize that. You deserve love, Poe, and a future. Even if it’s not my love, not my future.”

Finn sounded so sad, and Poe couldn’t take it. “Why won’t you just go? You’d be happier.”

“I’m not leaving. I’m not going to just say “I can’t take it anymore” and go. I’ve gone through a hell of a lot worse than your little snipes and jabs, Dameron. I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay. Then I’ll go, and you can get on with your life, maybe...find someone who doesn’t make you feel like drinking when you find out they love you.”

Finn made a move to stand, and even though everything around him was spinning, Poe made a desperate grab for Finn’s arm, catching the sleeve. “Wait, please don’t go. Finn, I- I love you.” Poe buried his fingers into the material of Finn’s jacket, tugging him back to the bed. “I didn’t choose you either, but oh stars, I want to. I want to choose you over this but I don’t know if I’m strong enough.” Poe collapsed, queasy, but happy that Finn was sitting back down.

“You’re pretty fucking strong, Poe. It’s not like all of your strength was held in your right eye.”

“Might as well have been,” Poe muttered, then held out his arms to Finn. “Will you lie down with me, like you did last night?”

“You remember that?” Finn sounded embarrassed.

“Yeah. Felt nice. Felt like I was loved.” He smiled a little to let Finn know he knew he was laying it on thick.

Finn smiled back, then did as Poe asked, wrapping Poe in his arms. With his back nestled up against Finn’s chest, Poe fell into the sleep of the inebriated.

\--------------------------------

Finn woke, arms empty, room dark, and blinked, disoriented. He’d meant to hold Poe until he slept, then get up and go about the routine he’d built for himself here, but he must have dozed off with Poe. And now Poe was gone, and Finn felt the singe of panic run through him. He climbed hastily out of bed and was out of the bedroom in a heartbeat, then nearly collapsed against the wall in relief when the fresher door open and Poe came out.

He’d shaven, and cut his curls down a bit, though his face was still that mix of puffy and gaunt of a person who’d been abusing alcohol for too long. Even that had been getting better before yesterday, so...Finn had hope.

“Hi,” he said, unable to keep the relief from his voice.

“Hey. I, uh, can’t do anything about this,” and Poe waved a hand in front of his scar, “but I thought maybe I could clean the rest up.”

“You look good,” Finn replied, because even if he didn’t really look good, he still looked damn fine to Finn, standing here, sober and alive and looking at him.

“I’m sorry about this morning. All of it. But mostly the part where I made you think that the thought of your love drove me to drink.” Poe coughed. “Well, I mean, it did. But not in the way you thought.”

“I understand.”

“I’m, uh, still a little freaked by the idea that you’re not going to leave me.”

“I get that, too. That’s okay.”

“I don’t know how long it’ll take me to believe…”

“That you’re worth it?”

“Something like that.”

“I don’t care how long it takes, Poe.”

“I know, and that terrifies me, but it also makes me feel all warm inside.” Poe flashed a little smile at him, and for the first time in awhile, Finn saw the laugh lines crinkle around his good eye. He’d missed that, he realized.

“Would you be willing to talk to someone about that? Like a therapist?”

Poe hesitated, then nodded. “I think so.”

“What about the brew?”

Poe’s hand shook a little as he swiped through his hair. “God, Finn, I want a drink more than my next breath.”

“Would you be willing to work with someone on that, too?”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Poe repeated, more firmly. “I hate the hold it has over me. I can think of only one thing I’d like to let have that hold over me.” Poe reached out, and Finn met him halfway so their fingers tangled together. “And that’s you.”

It wasn’t exactly the healthiest sentiment, but it still made Finn smile. They’d work on that. Poe’d learn that their love didn’t have to be as soul-consuming as addiction. He used their joined hands to pull Poe closer, wrapping him up tight. “I love you,” he whispered into Poe’s ear.

“I love you back.”

He ran a thumb over Poe’s smooth cheek and leaned in for the kiss, feeling the electricity all the way to his toes when Poe opened his mouth and slid his tongue over Finn’s lips. Poe pressed him against the wall, running a hand over his stomach and around to sink into his ass. “Mmph,” Finn moaned, then broke off, panting. “Where’s your dad?”

“Left a note.” Poe pressed a kiss to the side of Finn’s mouth. “Spending the night elsewhere.” Poe’s lips were under his ear now. “Yay, Dad.”

“Yay, Dad,” Finn repeated on a sigh when Poe’s lips found his pulse point.

“Kinda feel like a naughty teen, necking while the parents are away,” Poe said before nibbling at Finn’s throat.

“I’ll take your word for it. I think I’ve seen that in a holovid.” Finn cupped Poe’s face, then pushed him back, gently, before bringing their gazes level. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I feel like we’ve wasted a lot of time. Years of time. Yeah, I’m sure. You?”

“I meant what I said before: this is it for me, Poe. You’re it for me. Whatever it takes.” Finn tilted Poe’s head to capture his lips. “I’m sure.”

He led Poe back to his bedroom, undressing without hurry or the slowness of seduction, but with a simplicity that made Poe smile. His own clothing came off a little faster, which made Finn laugh, and they were still laughing as they fell into bed together, limbs tangled up.

They had both the familiarity of old friends and the eagerness of new lovers, wanting to explore each other. They got caught up in kisses, in stroking over their bodies and learning how to make the other sigh, moan, take a gulp of breath. Everything was slow, the house quiet except for their sounds, nothing leading toward the frantic passion that could take hold. When Finn slipped into Poe, it was smooth and easy, and felt like coming home. The slowest roll of Finn’s hips took them higher as Poe braced himself on Finn’s arms and met Finn’s eyes with his good one. Later, it would be the time for a fast pace, for quick satisfaction. Now, Finn wanted Poe to know that they had forever. They had an eternity, because Poe wasn’t going anywhere, so why rush?

Finn took one of Poe’s hands and placed it against his chest. “Feel what you do to me, Poe.”

Poe smoothed the hand over Finn’s chest, then pulled on Finn’s shoulder, wrapping his legs around Finn’s waist to bring him as close as possible. Finn lay over his chest, feeling their thundering hearts beat together as one.

“I love you, I love you,” Finn chanted into Poe’s neck with each slow roll of his hips, torturing them both.

When he came inside Poe, it was with a stillness that Finn could probably never hope to find again. He felt his cum shoot into Poe, saw Poe shudder and melt a little with it.

Finn reached down, slowly, softly stroking Poe’s cock until Poe squeezed his eye shut and joined him, releasing all over Finn’s fist and his stomach.

Finn swept sweaty curls off of Poe’s face, then slipped out and collapsed to the side of him. Poe turned to place kisses along his chest, down his side. He got out of the bed with care, returned with supplies for cleaning, then wrapped Finn tight in his arms.

“I’m yours, forever, Poe.”

“I want forever,” Poe murmured against his neck. Finn smiled. That was a good start.


	2. Finn's conversation about Leia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klyaska pointed out that I had not closed a plot hole - aka, what were Leia's motivations for not telling Finn about Poe's injury?! Surely she's not some nefarious behind-the-scenes manipulator, right?

Poe was tracing along his skin, hands a little jittery. Neither of them were up for another round, but they couldn't stop touching each other either. The house was still quiet; Kes had decided to stay away for the whole night, apparently.

"Are you sure you're not needed?"

"I know where I'm needed, Poe," Finn said, bringing him in closer.

Poe leaned up on one elbow and stared Finn down, which, despite the loss of the eye, he was still surprisingly good at. "You're meant for more than just shacking up with a useless pilot on a backwater planet."

"Excuse you, Yavin IV is gorgeous. Hardly backwater. Besides, what makes _you_ think you're meant to settle here, now?"

"I can't be seen like this," Poe growled.

"Poe Dameron, I never pegged you for such a narcissist." Poe sputtered, then growled again and buried his head in Finn's side. Finn ran a hand through his cleaned up curls. "It's not like you'd be any less the Resistance's poster boy if we slapped a patch over that thing. Oh! Or you could star in holovids as a Space Pirate."

"Fuck you," Poe mumbled into Finn's side, but he laughed a little.

Finn caressed down the unscarred side of Poe's face. "Seriously, Poe, do you think people would look down on you? You gave a fucking eye to save the galaxy. People should be bowing to you. I can't believe Leia's hiding it." Finn's fist clenched involuntarily, and Poe glanced at it.

"Leia?"

"She knew, she _knew_ about you and she didn't tell me. I'm still so mad at her, I haven't talked to her because I don't know what I'm going to say. And you know how I vomit words when I'm unprepared."

Poe's hand paused on his chest. "She didn't know."

 _"What?_ But your dad said-"

Poe pulled away, and Finn could see his hands had grown more unsteady. "I lied to my dad. And to Leia." He looked up at Finn after this, like he was expecting Finn to explode at him after the confession, but Finn held his gaze and waited. "It was easy to just send text-only transmissions to Leia, and just as easy to point my dad's anger at my injury and my...breakdown...at the Resistance. At Leia." Poe folded his knees up and hugged them, trying to fold into himself.

Finn wouldn't have it. He encircled Poe in his arms and pulled him back across the bed to settle on his lap. "Well, that's all easily fixable, isn't it? I'll finally respond to one of the countless transmissions I've been ignoring from Leia, and we tell your dad."

"He's going to hate me. Why shouldn't people hate me for what I've done?"

"You really think the man who gave us a night to ourselves to start figuring our shit out would hate you? Really?"

"No," Poe responded, but it was small against Finn's chest.

"Listen, you, uh, hmm."

"You can say it," Poe whispered.

"It's just that, it could have been a lot worse, you know? You could have hurt a lot more people. But you didn't. Just a few. And you know I've already forgiven you. I'm sure Kes will once you ask him. And then maybe you can start on forgiving yourself."

"That seems...distant."

Finn placed his hand over Poe's, tangled their fingers together. "So did this, not too long ago." He pressed a kiss to Poe's cheek, his forehead, his hair. Gently he eased them back to a lying position, Poe's knees in between his as they lay face to face. "We're going to make it work."

Even though it hadn't been a question, Finn saw some of Poe's old determination form in his eye. "Yeah. Yeah, we are."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you in advance for kudos and comments. They truly keep me going!
> 
> I'm @animalasaysrauer on tumblr, come say hi!


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